


_The Quith_

by koalaoshiz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood, Langst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Vomiting, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaoshiz/pseuds/koalaoshiz
Summary: Outside of the bunker is dangerous: filled with acidic gas, of roaming corpses and frail architecture, every steps can be your last.No one is safe when the zombs reign supreme.
Relationships: Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44
Collections: Langst Halloween Exchange 2020





	_The Quith_

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngstyZebra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstyZebra/gifts).



> Hello!! This is my langstron exchange gift for angstyzebra!!  
> I hope you like it because it was very fun to write!!
> 
> You gave me a list of suggestion and I just went and did everyone of them!

“Every time we go out, it makes me so uneasy…” Lance sighed behind his mask, his steps almost silent on the dust covered road. It was so overgrown with grass and roots it was difficult to travel around. The contrast between the state of the world they were living in now and the world they had left behind was immense, and a lot of people hadn’t been able to bear it at the beginning. 

Carcasses of cars were few and far in between, mostly in horribly bent piles but often just alone in the middle of the road. There was one Mazerati embracing a lamppost and he could see the moss covered figure laying on the steering wheel. Lucky one. 

“I know what you’re talking about.” Shiro answered him, his voice echoing only slightly inside of his earpiece. “We’ve been accustomed all our lives to bustling mega cities, to crowds of people and the sound of cars. Of everyday life. And now it’s just silence. No people, no animals.”

“Can you stop, please?” Keith grumbled, stepping over a crack in the asphalt. “You have this conversation literally _every time_ we go out.”

“Well what do you want us to talk about, mullet?” Lance scoffed, adjusting the straps of his bag on his shoulders. It wasn’t even half full and it was already midday. They had to push further away from the bunker, closer to the danger to get the resources they needed. 

As members of a Requisition team, they had the arduous task of scouring the wasteland that became their everyday life, to hopefully find helpful supplies like food, drugs and anything else that could fit inside of their backpacks. Lance always made enough space for toys and plushes, bringing smiles to the younger population of the bunker was extremely important to him. 

It wasn’t surprising to find Lance in the day care/school zone in-between missions. 

“Guys, please.” Shiro said, turning his head towards them, his eyebrows furrowed. “We can’t be bickering in the open like this.”

“Sorry Shiro…” They both muttered at the same time, sending a heated glare at the other to show this matter wasn’t so easily forgotten. 

Lance zipped his jacket up a little more, glad it was becoming chilly once more. He loved the heat but the humidity combined with his full face gas mask was a pain. The mask was a new product from before the Fall; it was mostly transparent, showing his face fully while protecting him efficiently. Shiro had an older model, a half mask that needed to have its filters changed regularly. Yet, the worst of their group, in Lance’s opinion, was Keith. 

With the need to wear a hazmat suit and the full mask accompanying it, there were often moments where Lance asked himself if Keith wasn’t uncomfortable, especially with the heat. Yet Keith never complained, always followed. Being afflicted with Acute Epidermis Sensitivity, or ÆSAES for short, meant the Quith filled air around them would burn Keith’s skin if it weren’t for his suit. Just like the Quith would kill them if they weren’t wearing their gas masks. 

“Alright guys, we’ll try the next bloc, and if we don’t find anything, we’re turning back to the bunker. No need to push our luck for a nickel.”

“Boo, old man.” Lance laughed a little, ‘nickels’ haven’t been in use for sometimes now. Their only worth lay in melting down to make bullets.

“So what you’re saying is it’s not worthless.” Keith looked at him, with what Lance thought was a piercing gaze, but how could he know since his full face mask hid his face away with only two glowing dots where the eyes were. 

“You little-!” Lance stepped toward Keith, only to be stopped by Shiro. 

“Stop that. Lance, reckon please.” He asked, where Lance huffed in response but complied. 

“Could you stop antagonizing him, Keith?” He heard via his com, which he promptly turned down enough not to hear their conversations but not too much he wouldn’t be able to hear their warnings. 

There was a building with a fire escape lowered, which he expertly climbed up, minding the weak parts. He arrived quickly on the roof, his machete at his side in cases any zombs were waiting for him, hidden behind air ducts. It wouldn’t be the first time people had tried to make a viable space on a rooftop, only to be decimated by either people who hid being infected or by the Quith when it started spreading through the country. 

Luckily for him, nothing surprised him as he made his way to the opposite side of the roof, his free hand reaching for the binoculars he had attached to his thigh. 

Sweeping the perimeter with a hard learned concentration, Lance spotted some zombs to the north, staggering uncoordinatedly. There was a purpose in their steps but nothing he knew came with the pursuit of a prey. Enhancing the view, Lance barely spotted a few other zombs surrounding one of their own, prostrated on the floor. Then, in the most grotesque and sickening way, they began puking on it. How glad he was to be far from them. 

Yep, this situation screamed bad news. 

The zombs were creating a new nest, pretty close to the bunker. This would be something to warn the Blades - the bunker’s dedicated zombs fighters - about when they came back home. Their presence would thicken the Quith in the area when they had finally managed to thin it out to a level that would allow for fresh air if given a little more time for mother nature to do her work. But of course, the zombs weren’t going to give them this freedom, of course not. 

What a bunch of assholes.

Frowning, Lance turned his gaze to the other sides, seeing only a few zombs roaming around aimlessly, but no big group of them. Good. 

“I’m coming back.” Lance said into his comm, putting back his binoculars so he had at least one free hand.

The trek back was more complicated than when he climbed up but he managed to rejoin back up with Keith and Shiro, who were waiting for him,safe inside of a dilapidated building. 

“There’s a nest forming north of us.” He warned them, which earned him a smile from Shiro and a pat on the shoulder. Well, he assumed it had been a smile, with the crinkles around his eyes softening his expression somewhat. Maybe that was a concerned frown, which honestly would be the same to Lance. 

“I’ll tell Antok as soon as possible.” Keith told him, his left hand coming to his head as if to push his hair away from his eyes but it was cut short and he remembered he was wearing a hazmat suit.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re in a Requisition team. I mean, you were basically trained to be in a Nest Elimination Team.” Lance said to him, hand on his hip. They had resumed walking and Lance had already asked this question several times before but never got a straight answer. 

Keith was always uncomfortable not answering Lance’s question but it always felt _weird_ and _awkward_ to say “because I want to stay by your side and protect you.” Keith knew Lance _knew_ it was one possible answer, but neither of them had ever actually voiced it. 

Intrinsically, Keith knew that Lance was perfectly capable of defending himself, had proved it again and again during their outings. After all, if they weren’t able to fight against any zombs they would never have been allowed outside of the bunker. If you were unable to watch your own back, who would trust you to watch theirs? 

So, sure. His mother had trained him since before the literal end of society after he had badgered her after finding how she handled a sword so elegantly. It was so awe inspiring. And his training had only gotten harsher when the first case of infection began ruining everyone's lives. He was good, better than the majority of people in the bunker. 

Keith needed this, even if he had to wear an uncomfortable hazmat suit to avoid having his skin burned away from the Quith, even if all he did crawl around in derelict buildings for morsels. There wasn’t a lot left behind, after all. They were able to grow plants via a clever use of UV lamps and were able to have a small supply of meat and milk from the few animals they had inside but with their current population, it wasn’t nearly enough. 

Maybe, if they were spread across more bunkers… 

No. More bunkers would not help the situation, Keith thought, mentally shaking his head. They absolutely didn’t need to spread everyone all around the state in the hope of stalling their inevitable doom. Not only would it be near impossible with the Quith - and only a selected dozen people having the gas masks to deal with it, but they wouldn’t even be able to protect them _after_ separating. And it would be absolutely stupid to only assign a handful of blades and requisitioners with every group. 

That would be equivalent to a death sentence for everyone involved. 

Even more so when no bunkers were fully safe. The loss of several Bunkers in the recent past still haunted the few survivors who had reached them. Altea and Daibazaal had been more equipped than the Arus Bunker they were now residing in, as he learned, but ultimately it had meant nothing. 

Society will continue collapsing under them no matter what they tried to do about it, he surmised. 

Keith is shaken from his thoughts by Lance announcing he was going to look in a window to see if he could spot something salvageable, barely paying attention to Shiro’s confirmation. He preferred standing guard in case zombs finally caught on to the fresh prey loitering around and decided to check it out. 

He had made bad decisions before, but none he regretted more than this one. 

Because not paying attention to his teammates, to Lance, had been the worst mistake in his life. It obliterated the time when he crashed his father’s car when he was 15, when he stole Shiro’s motorbike and nearly totalled it, more than when he thought it clever to cheat back at his partner, before he learned it had been false accusations from some asshole. 

Every one of those bad decisions felt trivial, inconsequential - as his worst nightmare happens with him being unable to prevent it. 

Keith hears it first, before he is able to turn around, there is a sickening clunk quickly followed by Lance’s yelp. Then, the sound of two bodies falling to the ground and something clacking on the dusty concrete. When he finally gets there, his heart stops beating. 

In the few seconds it took for Lance to move towards the open window, one of those undead bastards crawled out of the floor above, to fall directly on Lance sending them both tumbling to the ground. To add to the horror of it, the clatter he heard was from Lance’s facemask having been ripped off his head, now spinning like a beyblade. 

They react lightning fast after that, Shiro coming to Lance’s side and kicking the zomb off him, leaving it for Keith to slash its head off with his sword. It was probably done with more hatred than it necessitated, and the end result was messier than his usual way, but he disregarded it, coldly watching the goopy blood splatter on the floor. 

Panicking, he turned back to see Shiro kneeling near Lance, shoving the discarded mask back onto his face, fashioning a strap out of his own shirt as one seemed to have snapped during the collision. There was bright, red blood on Lance’s face, on the collar of his shirt. 

Shit, shit shit! 

Keith moved his attention back to the zomb, ignoring the decaying flesh, the putrid way bones were protruding from wounds and focused on its neck, the zone between the ears and the jaw. Only pale skin met his eyes, the criss cross of blackened veins. There were no dark spots, no gross growth, just ripped skin and coagulated blood. Relief washed over Keith at that sight but he didn’t let it control him. 

Keith turned back to Shiro, who was supporting a coughing Lance in his arms, both looking at him with fright in their eyes. He could see, in the split second it took him to open his mouth, how Lance was gripping Shiro’s arm in a tight vice and the scratches on his cheeks, down his neck. His nose was bleeding. 

“It’s a non-bie!” 

“Thank fuck.” He hears Shiro in his earpiece, nearly sobbing as he leans forward to engulf Lance in a quick hug. The zomb hadn’t been infectious, Lance was not going to turn into one of those undead freaks, and they wouldn’t have to free him from this miserable fate. On the other hand, the fact he was starting to cough was worrying in itself. 

Shiro caught on to it as quickly as Keith did. He lifted Lance around his shoulders so he could carry Lance in a fireman's lift. It took him a few seconds to get used to the strange weight of Lance’s body and both of their backpacks, but when he finally started to retrace their steps toward Arus, his pace was as assured as if he was carrying nothing.

“I’m sorry.” Lance whimpered as he buried his head in Shiro’s shoulder. “I was so surprised by the impact and- I couldn’t hold my breath-”

“It’s ok, Lance. Just breathe calmly, in and out.” Shiro shushed him, trying his hardest to calm Lance down so he wouldn’t hyperventilate. With the Quith now in his system, even so lightly exposed, there was no time to lose. Lance needed urgent medical attention or he would either lose a lung or die. 

“Just look at me, ok, Lance?” Keith added, rushing alongside Shiro. “You’re doing great. That’s it, slowly.”

“It hurts.” Lance’s voice was garbled and Keith could see his complexion becoming paler and paler as they got closer to their destination. 

Keith felt like puking as they ran to the bunker, avoiding any zombs that tried to grab them, Keith slicing the ones that were persistent without losing any speed; if they slowed down even for a moment, Lance would not survive it. 

Salvation came with the sight of the oxygen tower soaring high above their head, high above the Quith, and the blast doors that came into view soon after. Keith pressed the pace to start the opening of the door, not wanting to have Shiro be idle in front of the door for longer than necessary. 

When he had first entered the bunker, he had in mind the dozen of tv shows he had binged with his father, with his friends before, of bunker doors opening with a solemn alarm for the badass heroes to exit and save the day. 

There were no heroes anymore. The blaring alarm would only attract unwanted attention anyway. It was better to listen to the locks of the door being opened, their hollow clunk resonating deeply in his chest as the door hinged slowly open. Shiro rushed inside, Keith following closely behind before he slammed the emergency button. 

There was a rush of air as the door closed brutally behind them and the warning lights shone red around them. The familiar hiss of the airlock felt like the most comforting sound ever to him after such an intense event. 

“Come on, hurry up:” Shiro snapped as the first internal door opened, revealing the smooth walls and the drains on the floor. There was a sudden squeak as the intercom sprung to life. 

“Situation?”

“Non-bie scratches and Quith inhalation.” Shiro answered just as the decontamination showers started, lathing the three of them in an irritating concoction. Keith found himself very lucky to be wearing a suit, as he had heard Lance complain _a lot_ about that in the past. Now it just felt worse because it added to Lance’s already bad condition. “Can we please speed this up?!”

“A medical team is on stand by with a stretcher when the procedure finishes. We know the situation is dire, but we cannot risk the security of the bunker - and your own health.” The voice said and Keith swore he would strangle whoever was at security. Since the speakers always deformed the pitch, it was near impossible to recognize the person and Keith wasn’t ready to leave lance to go smack everyone of the cam team around. 

The shower stopped and was replaced by the powerful gusts of the dryers, Keith had Shiro shift Lance's position, taking his bag so Lance would be more comfortable. It had been useless outside, but now it was all he could do to help make him even slightly more comfortable.

The fact that they both could see blood bubbling on his lips made Keith's guts churn, hating how pallid and still Lance was. The fact they could move him around like a puppet without much complaint made it worse. 

Finally, the door opened and they walked inside the third and final chamber where the flare of the U.V lights eliminated the possible germs and viruses clinging to them. 

Finally able to take his mask off, Keith clipped it to his belt, taking his hood off and bending to do the same to Lance as Shiro imitated him on his side, eyes squinted to see properly. 

The inside of Lance's facemask was covered in blood, still dripping. Lance himself looked even worse than before, barely responsive to Keith calling out to him. There was a short moment where Keith thought he was trying to say something, but all that came out was more blood, viscous and speckled with black. Lance seemed unable to do anything but puke blood, his hands clawing his chest weakly. Shit! Fuck!!

Thankfully, this room had always been the fastest of the three, and the door to the bunker proper was barely opened before the medical team rushed inside with a gurney. Taking Lance off their hands, leaving as fast as they had come, shouting orders to each other and in their radios. 

Keith was left alone with Shiro as they tumbled out of the chamber, their feet leading them automatically to the changing area right beside the doors. Mechanically, they changed, dropping their clothes into a chute so they could be cleaned and sanitized properly. The atmosphere hung heavily, as they were unable to properly convey what they were thinking. 

Keith didn't even know if he was thinking at all, doing things by habit, putting on his regular clothes, placing his facemask in the box so it could be checked before the next excursion. He felt like a robot, doing his tasks because they needed to be done rather than because that's what he wanted. 

"I'm… I'm going to give my report to Allura, and turn our bags into supply, I'll be back in our apartment later." Shiro said, voice still shaking. He wasn't looking at Keith perhaps inwardly blaming himself more than he should be. All of them were to blame. None of them were to blame. 

"I'm going to give the news to Hunk and Pidge; probably tell Nadia he won't be joining the kids for a while…" God, the kids… how would they react knowing that Lance was hurt, possibly in a debilitating way? Lance was a big brother to many of them, one of the kids even slipped and called him dad once! Lance had been weirdly happy and flustered about it, but had never really talked about it to either of them. 

Shit, dwelling into those thoughts wasn’t good. 

“I’ll see you later.” Shiro squeezed his shoulder before departing, his pace steady but clearly forced. Keith shook himself a few moments later, heading to the workshop where their friends usually resided. 

Keith doesn’t quite remember telling them about Lance, Hunk’s worried tears and Pidge’s distressed ramble at Lance’s situation isn't noteable. He vaguely remembers talking to them but what they exchanged was lost in the fuz inside of his head. Departing from them, Keith headed toward the children area, feeling heavy. 

Locating Nadia in the sea of children wasn’t as easy as it sounded, especially when it was apparently playtime and dog piles formed _everywhere_. There were kids of all ages, but the very young ones were rare, a depressing consequence of their situation. Babies and toddlers lacked defences to survive, especially without an adult while older kids could hold on until help came. 

So when they were brought to the bunker, they were placed in the child area to be taken care of by the adults present, oftentime being adopted by a couple or a polycule, living with them instead of the children’s building. 

A lot of kids wanted to be adopted, not because their building was lacking anything - people like Lance had tried their hardest to make it the most comfortable and safe building in the bunker, rivaling the command center - but because they craved parental affection and a lot of people were willing to give it to them. 

He also knew Lance had been asking Shiro and him to adopt one of them, but they never had the chance to say yes before this mission. Before Lance got injured. 

He only found Nadia because her voice carried far inside of the hallways. She was reading a story, really going into the characters as she did the voices, eliciting giggles and fake screams from the kids. 

He stops in the doorway, watching her flail her arm around, mimicking beastly limbs and Keith is awkward. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t even know why _he’s_ here. This was Lance’s place. Keith had only been here a handful of times, and only because Lance had dragged them here to play music to the kids. 

What if Lance became unable to sing? What if the Quith damaged his throat like it did to Antok? What if he lost his voice, became unable to breathe properly? If Lance was unable to play an active part in the bunker life, if Lance was not able to help anyone, that would break him. 

He was still gathering his courage to go and talk to her when he felt a small hand tug at his shirt. He weakly turned his head to look and freezes, his brain coming to a complete halt. 

Because the kid who attracted his attention was the one he’d seen the most with Lance. Quinn, a little girl with red hair and brown eyes, face speckled with freckles, looking at him nervously. It was as if she was sensing that something was wrong. Kids were sensitive to these sorts of things, he remembered. 

“Mister Keith?” She asked, voice wavering. “Where’ is ‘Ans’? He usua’y come t’say hi to me first. Is he angry at me?”

And Keith, Keith doesn’t know what to say to her, doesn’t know how he could _handle_ telling her what happened, what would happen to Lance. 

He doesn’t know how to bear seeing Quinn’s eyes fill up with fear and tears. Keith wasn’t prepared for this, and as much as he had been in denial about it until now, there was always a moment where one couldn’t take anymore of it. And when they reached that point, they would break. 

Keith broke.  
__

Shiro took longer to report their expedition to Allura than it usually took, because his mind wouldn’t stop coming back to Lance; burning hot in his arms and puking blood. He’d felt so helpless. With how scattered he was, and with good reasons, Allura had sat him down with a cup of tea - valuable in their current situation - and let him take time to collect himself. 

She was understanding of his situation, being something like a sister to Lance, filling in the gap left by the loss of his family. Alone since they had been separated somewhere in Texas, he and Allura had bonded through their mutual hardships and were practically glued to the hip for a long while. 

Learning he might die, even in Coran’s hand, one of their best surgeons - and also the only one that had a doctorate to prove it, was absolutely crushing her. And even if he survived the surgery, no one had made a full recovery from inhaling the Quith. 

“You should go back home, get some rest.” She tells him, a hand on his shoulder. “I am sure Keith is going to need you.”

“You’re right. Thank you, Allura.” Shiro softly said, squeezing her hand and wiping one of her tears away. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” She whispered, lowering her head, “not after-”

“I know, Allura.” Shiro said back, hugging her tightly. The loss of the Altea bunker was still a deep wound in her heart, she had lost so many of her loved ones. Coran came with her, one of the dozen survivors of that sinister day. 

“Lance is strong, we just need to believe in him, ok? He’s not going to die. He’s too stubborn for that.” That made Allura laugh as she stepped away from his embrace, cleaning her tears with her sleeve. 

“You’re right. You should go now. I’ll tell Coran to come to you directly when the surgery is over.”

Shiro left her office with his heart still heavy with worry, but reassured. Apart from rejoining Keith in their apartment, there was nothing he could do except pray and hope. Despite not being a very faith- oriented man, he felt the need to reach to some ‘higher power’ just so he could at least feel like he was doing _something_ to help Lance. 

It was just so different from the times he twisted his ankle, burnt himself doing something silly or got bitten by a non-bie in the past. Injuries like that could heal, being bitten by those things didn’t lead to gruesome transformations.The Quith was deadly, people had been executed for the crime of tampering with someone’s gasmask.

Lance could die on that operating table and there was nothing they could do about it. 

Shiro was a bit surprised to see Kinkade in their living room, apparently waiting for him to come back. Immediately, that made Shiro nervous because Kinkade had no reason to be here, especially if Keith had only been to see Nadia at her workplace. Immediately, Shiro’s guts tightened uncomfortably. 

“Good, you’re here.” Kinkade said, standing up from the couch. “Keith is in your room, resting. Apparently, he had a panic attack and Nadia had to call me to get him home. Even gave James a black eye when he tried to calm him down."

“Sorry about that.” Shiro sighed, feeling the stress of the day pilling up on him and making him exhausted. It was surprising for Keith to crumble like that, but it was understandable due to the situation. 

“Never saw him like that.” Kinkade added, uncomfortably. “I… sincerely hope Lance makes a full recovery.”

“Thank you.” Shiro said, throat tightening up with more emotion than he was able to deal with at the current time. “I’ll be taking care of him, you can go home.”

“Good luck, man.” Kinkade said, patting Shiro on the arm before leaving the apartment, the door closing with a heavy thund. 

Shiro sagged against the wall of the hallway for a short moment, collecting himself and letting the cold seep inside of his shirt and cool him down. There was just so much happening, his brain was actively fighting to deal with it in its entirety. 

Taking a big breath, steeling himself once more, hoping for it to be the last time today he plods towards their room, trying not to look at the picture Lance had put on the wall of the three of them. Seeing his smile would only hurt more. 

The door to their room was not fully closed and he could see the soft light of their nightlight through the crack, but he could not hear anything. Knocking softly, Shiro opened the door to see Keith curled in a fetal position around Lance’s favorite pillow, and the shaking of his shoulders tells him Keith isn’t asleep. 

Silently, he walked toward their bed, sitting on the edge, close to Keith but at a comfortable distance. He knew Keith disliked having people crowd him during a panic attack and even a touch could set him off, worsening his attack. From his position, he could see tear tracks on his cheeks but it didn’t look like he still was crying. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked Keith, inching closer to him. “Keith? Can you hear me?”

He can see him nod a little but he was not answering otherwise. So before he changes his mind,Shiro slides the rest of the way on the bed toward Keith and gently places a hand on his calf, letting Keith get accustomed to his touch before moving closer, placing his hand higher. 

Slowly, gently, he was able to shift Keith onto his lap, shushing any sobs that escaped him. It was nerve wracking to have Keith reduced to such a state but it was understandable, given the situation they had been thrust in. 

Keith didn’t really talk about his life “before” but he did tell them about how he never really had friendships that lasted long enough to be meaningful. That Lance had been his first _real_ friend since his father had died.That Lance had been his first true friend right before everything went crashing down. As for Keith and Shiro well…

As for Shiro, despite being neighbors, they never really had any meaningful conversations. Small chit-chats here and there, while Shiro barely managed to jungle between his assignments in the army and the few classes he took at the university. 

It was ironic that it took a literal apocalypse for them to find and confess their love. Lance had nearly lost his mind when he learned that Keith hadn’t understood they had been dating for months, and Lance was confused as to why Keith was so jealous of how he acted towards Shiro. 

While badmouthed in their “previous life”, polyamory relationships had literally bloomed in their new reality, helping the people fight the doom and gloom of having to fight for their lives with the simple reassurance of kindness, love and someone to come home to. Of course, there had been groups that revelled in chaos and hurting others, but they had been few and far between, never lasting long enough to truly pose a problem. 

So for someone like Keith who was so dependent on his relationship, it took a real toll on him. Truly, he had a similar reaction when it had been Shiro on the operating table. 

“Lance is going to be alright.” He hushed him, kissing his sweaty temple. Keith was trembling, clinging to Shiro’s shirt with white knuckles and raspy breath. “You know Lance is a fighter, he isn’t going to give up so easily.”

Keith sniffled, nodding weakly. His shivers were receding and he seemed altogether more present, shifting his position so he could put his head on Shiro’s shoulder. 

He was still clinging onto Lance’s pillow. 

“Kinkade also told me you punched James.” Shiro said with a humorous tone, putting his chin on the top of Keith’s head. He whined at Shiro’s quip.

“I don’t remember…” 

“It’s ok. He just has a black eye and it doesn't seem like he is going to hold a grudge against you for it, from Kinkade’s tone. But you should present your excuse when you feel better, alright?”

Keith mumbled a few positive words, but it seemed like he was struggling to keep awake. Shiro had to maneuver carefully so they could both lie in the bed comfortably without losing his hold on him. It wouldn’t be good to make him feel alone or isolated when Lance’s situation already put a strain on his psyche. 

Truthfully, he had seen men break for less than that. Keith was strong, but it could easily be his downfall. 

_______

The next few days were spent miserably. With not much to do and Lance away from them, Keith and Shiro would idle in their apartment and, when the atmosphere became too suffocating, in the small park inside the bunker. They barely interacted with anyone except for Allura who came to bring news and Quinn, the child Lance wanted to adopt. 

To say she was stubbornly clinging to them would be an understatement. She had, the day after Keith broke down in the children area, decided she would be taking care of them until Lance came back. It was a shock , to say the least, for a seven year old to scold them into bathing and eating. 

Because she was right and way too adorable, all they could do was obey her orders. During those days, they both thought Lance would find it hilarious that two grown men could be ordered around by a small child. 

Quinn pulled no punches, stating her mind in a way only children could. It was heartbreaking to remember that she would never be allowed to play under the sun without risking her life, but he and the other adults were trying their hardest to make it possible for them. 

"-and then F'oretta kicked Allen in the nose and it was not broken but she was still grounded by 'melle because she's not s'pposed to jump off the swing like that." She said as Shiro managed to finally tame her frizzy red hair, kicking her own feet wildly to back her story. 

He sees Keith nods from the corner of his eyes but that's apparently enough for her as she starts talking about what they were currently learning, interspersed with comments on Romelle's wild hairstyle of the day. 

They didn't do a lot that day, perhaps because Quinn was slowly bringing more and more of her belongings in their apartment, overtaking what had been their guestroom. Taking care of her made them focus on the present and occupied their mind from worrying about Lance too much. 

The buzz of the doorbell shook them from their lull, cutting Quinn mid-sentence, making her pout. Petting her head as he passed, Keith walked towards the door, heart jumping to his mouth. It was rare for people to seek them out and never at this hour of the day. 

The door opened on the tired, yet peppy face of Coran, his mustache slightly askew. Since the older man wasn’t crying, relief washed over Keith suddenly, like a flood. His knees would have given out from under him if he wasn’t holding onto the door. 

“Ah, Keith, hello lad. Is Shiro with you?”

“He’s in the living room.” He answered, tongue feeling heavy and awkward inside of his mouth from the adrenaline rush. “How’s Lance?!” He asked, heart thumping like crazy in his chest. 

“His condition is stable but I need the both of you to come to the hospital with me to discuss things further. He should be awake and while we usually don’t permit visitation on Thursday but I will allow it, granted I supervise you.” 

Tears pricking at his eyes, Keith rushed inside to tell Shiro, surprising the both of them, the news prompting them to leave what they were doing to go grab their shoes and follow Coran to the hospital. Shiro was holding on to Quinn, who looked ready to cry. 

Frankly, Keith was also close to tears but he held on, until he knew Lance was truly safe, until they knew Lance was coming back home to them. 

The hospital’s hallways were always cold and smelled of antiseptic, something that always made Keith feel like sneezing. The nurses and visitors had visibly tried to make the place feel warmer by decorating the walls with posters, drawings and trinkets. In Keith’s opinion, it didn’t really work. 

Lance’s room was set in a quiet part of the hospital, in the intensive care ward and the atmosphere felt suffocating. He could hear quiet sobs and soulless moans that gave him the creeps. 

“Alright, I’m going to give you a short rundown of his condition, then you will be able to go see him: 

“Firstly, he didn’t inhale much Quith but it’s a nasty little thing, attacked his trachea and mucus. It’s a miracle the damage wasn't more severe. That being said, until his body heals naturally, strenuous exercises are strictly forbidden due to his weakened lungs. 

“And since the Quith destroyed the lining of his esophagus and trickled down to his stomach, heavy food is to be avoided as much as possible. Until he is able to digest properly, soups and easily processed sugars are recommended.”

“Like candies?” Quinn asked, earning herself a chuckle from the old man.

“Not quite, darling.” He answered truthfully, patting her on the head. “More like fruits, pastas.”

“Pastas aren’t sugar.” She frowned, not quite understanding. 

Coran chuckled at that, patting her once more. 

“He’s going to feel quite tired for a long while, since the operation was strenuous on his body. Absolute rest for a few weeks, then we will have to do some rehab therapy adapted to his condition. Don’t make him talk more than he needs to. In short: pamper him, but don’t let him out of your sight. The lad is slippery and might want to be active sooner than he should.”

“That’s… yeah, that describes him perfectly.” Shiro laughed softly, burying his face into Quinn’s hair. “We’ll have to be vigilant on that front.”

“Alright, you can go see him. Be quiet and calm, don’t jump on him.” Keith swore that last sentence was said for him but, nah. It couldn’t be. 

Coran had work to do so, the trio entered the room carefully, taking note of the soft lighting and the single bed in the middle of the room. Lance was resting on it, eyes closed but the light frown on his face assured them he wasn’t sleeping. 

"Hi Lance." Keith started, awkwardly. "How are you holding up?"

Shiro hears him grumble but Lance turns his head to look at them, a smile slowly coming into his lips when he sees the three of them here. 

"Hey." He croaked, holding his left hand out toward them, Shiro sitting down on the uncomfortable chair beside his bed so he could hold it. Quinn sat comfortably in his lap, putting her hand on theirs. "I feel like crap."

"Coran gave us the rundown." Shiro said, tenderly caressing Lance's hand with his thumb. Keith sat gently at the end of the bed, placing a hand on one of Lance's ankles. 

Shiro could see his eyes glistening in the low light and he was going to say something about it, but before he could do anything, Keith let out a sob, lowering his head. 

"I should have protected you better." He sobbed, hiding his face in his arms, on Lance's knees. "I'm so sorry, Lance… if I had been better, if I had done my job, you'd never have been hurt." 

Shiro's heart broke once more as Lance tried to reach out for Keith, but bed bound as he was, he was unable to reach. 

"Hey, hey, babe." Lance said, softly. "Look at me, ok? Can you look at me, Keith? That's good, good job." He added when Keith finally lifted his head, face streaked with tears and lips wobbly. "It's not your fault. None of this was anyone's fault. If you want to blame someone, blame that stupid non-bie, ok?" 

Keith nodded weakly, sniffling through his sobs as he scouted forward so he could lie his head on Lance's lap, making it possible for the latter to put a hand to play with Keith's hair. 

"Sure, it sucks that it happened at all-" earning himself a falsely outraged gasp from Quinn. "But we all knew the danger of going outside. We all have followed the same exercises, learned the same drills." 

Lance coughed, his voice raspy and strained. 

"Lance, you don't have to push yourself too much to talk." Shiro murmured to him, which earned him a flat look for their boyfriend. 

"You can cry, you know?" Lance told him and Shiro lowered his head slightly. During the days Lance was stuck on the operating table, in the hospital without them, Shiro had felt like he wasn't allowed to break down; that he had to be strong for the four of them. 

But seeing Lance alive, smiling even in his weakened state, allowed him to relax and to shed tears, to fully feel the fear, the anguish he had let accumulate inside of him.

Finally letting himself cry, Shiro felt an overwhelming relief wash over him, over their situation. Now that their family was finally back together, now that Lance was coming back home, the somber days of agony could finally be behind them.

The road ahead was still long but the light at the end of it felt like hope.


End file.
